


winter sun

by DamaDePique



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Overly-Verbose Smooches, Shy Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 17:49:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13746147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamaDePique/pseuds/DamaDePique
Summary: the only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you. — SakuHina, first kiss (and second kiss, and third kiss, and...).





	winter sun

**Author's Note:**

> very much a clear out old docs day...this one's from **2014** , originally a giftfic for a friend.

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“Kiss me,” she says simply, and Sakura halts in her tracks, a deer caught in the headlights.

 

Hinata stares at her expectantly through half-lidded eyes, long eyelashes peppered with snowflakes casting strange, heavy shadows across the apples of her cheeks. she looks like something out of a dream, haloed by the poor light coming down from the streetlamps, and Sakura wonders if, perhaps, she is dreaming.

 

“W-what...?”

 

“I want you to kiss me,” she repeats, taking a small step forward. “Please.”

 

her face is flushed, full lips parted and bruised by the cold, and everything be damned, Sakura knows she cannot say no when she's looking at her like that, pleading with her eyes for all the things she's too mortified to say she wants.

 

it makes her breath catch. it's a suffering expression that tells too much and asks so little — _make me yours; kiss me, Sakura, and make. me. **yours** ,_ it says, and heavens help her, she _cannot_ say no.

 

so, slowly, softly, she cups the sides of Hinata’s face; grasping the flesh as if it's made from the most delicate of porcelains, and should she be any rougher with her touch she would splinter. lovingly, half in awe, she cradles the chin and jaw in her palms, running her thumbs over the smooth expanse of cheekbone.

 

_So beautiful. So achingly beautiful._

 

“I love you,” she whispers against her lips. “I've loved you for a very long time.”

 

“I know,” Hinata murmurs in reply. her eyes are closed, serene expression unguarded, mouth curled into a smile. “I...”

 

“Yeah. I know.”

 

the kiss is languid, drawn-out, passionate in the way lovemaking in the morning after a wedding night is. Hinata tastes like tangerines and pomegranate, small plump lips somehow fitting perfectly against Sakura's thinner, wider ones; there's a quiet fire swirling in the dance of their tongues, burning like the trail left by an ice cube on scalding skin and sweet like a promise, engulfing them both in a saccharine fever until they're swallowed whole.

 

it's an intense sensation, white-hot like liquid steel, making her blood boil in her veins and her heart beat wildly all the way up in her throat. her pulse is throbbing, maddened, the beat of it become so loud her eardrums hurt; and for a fleeting moment she wonders if Hinata can hear it as clearly as she does.

 

when they part for air, it's almost like time has stopped ticking.

 

snowflakes drift aimlessly around them, flying on the borrowed wings of a wind that's howling the long-lost song of winter. small, delicate hands are gripping at her back with a mute urgency, and, honestly, Sakura wouldn't mind spending the rest of forever with Hinata stuck to her front, because god, she's never felt more complete in her life.

 

 _You truly are a place in the sun,_ she thinks, the warmth of their embrace seeping in through her coat and settling along her bones, worming its way through her skin and deeper still into her marrow.

 

they kiss again, because Hinata is too beautiful and Sakura was never one not to pluck roses when they're ripe. this time it's hungrier, more fierce, still burning white like ice slid down the spine; it's unlike anything else she's ever felt, the sort of intoxicating kiss that leaves you drunk and wanton, desperately needing more.

 

it makes her head spin like a champagne inebriation, and her toes curl inside her boots as she dips to deepen the kiss.

 

Hinata sighs in contentment, moaning softly, and among the flavor of citrus Sakura swears she can taste heaven itself set in the lines of her mouth. the sound ignites an entirely different kind of flame, one coiling in her stomach like a vice to pulse in her loins.

 

she imagines what it would be to pepper kisses on her entire body, to worship every inch of skin with her mouth, to caress every curve and crevice and memorize the map of it with the pads of her fingers, with the calloused skin of her palms. and what a lovely memory it would make, the picture of a goddess writhing underneath her, screaming her name like a plea, whispering it like a prayer.

 

when they part again for air, she's met with hooded eyes, the expression pooling in them one of undeniable love and want. it makes Sakura feel lightheaded and warm and simply right.

 

“Let's go home,” Hinata says, taking her hand.

 

their fingers intertwine without hesitation.

 

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* * *

 

**_fin._ **


End file.
